“All right, team. These first practices are going to be all about conditioning, so get ready to run—sprints, routes, Oklahomas. And that’s after you drop and give us 100 push-ups, 250 crunches, and 100 squats.” Jake ignored the chorus of moans and groans, and continued. “And, since your verbal reaction tells me that what we’ve planned is not enough, we’re going to divide up into offense and defense to work on a few basic techniques.” Jake put his hand to his ear and listened. You could hear a mouse pee on cotton. “That’s more like it. Guys, if we want to be number one then we’ve got to put in the work! Practice, heart, and attitude is what it takes to rise head and shoulders above the competition. We’ve got to come hard or go home. Are you with me?”

Twenty-five heads nodded and for the next two hours tried to give Jake McDonald and the other coaches everything they had and then some. Jake was impressed and let the players know how much he appreciated their hard work, which, of course, only made them want to work harder.

“How does it feel?” The assistant coach, Shawn Gallagher, moved the folders from a chair in front of Jake’s desk and plopped down.

“How does what feel?” Jake asked, handing Shawn a bottled water from the mini-fridge before sitting behind the desk.

“Being a god.”

Jake snorted.

“Coach, Coach!” Shawn mimicked, his green eyes sparkling. “The boys love you, man, especially that Clark kid.”

“Aw, well, what can I say?” Jake drawled, straightening invisible lapels. “I’m the man.”

Actually, it had been a difficult time of adjustment when Jake retired from the NFL eight years ago at the ripe old age of thirty-two. He’d experienced an unexpected bout of fame and team-withdrawal—one moment he was part of a family whom thousands adored every Sunday, and the next moment he was sitting in his home gym minus the cheerleaders and the roar.

Shawn took a swig of water. “I noticed somebody else who wants to play on your team.”

Jake raised an eyebrow. “I hope it’s that Burnett kid. I know his mind is set on basketball, and his father is pushing him to just concentrate on that and track, but I think that he’d make one heck of a running back.”

“It’s not just his dad; Alvin isn’t interested in football. But I’m not talking about him.”

Jake looked up from the player chart he’d been studying. “Then who?”

Shawn’s smile widened. “The new fourth-grade teacher.”

“The tall brunette with those long, sexy legs?”

Shawn nodded.

“She’s gorgeous, but I don’t think she’s interested in me. I saw y’all hanging out before the meeting started, and her looking at you goo-goo-eyed.”